E – Party of 5

It has been a long while since I have updated about all of my family. My family has been so amazing this summer. Everyone re-arranged their own things to be 100% there for me and the family. It is not that I thought they wouldn’t. It was more they exceeded my expectations.

I remember so clearly the toils and tribulations of raising littles and just how exhausting it all can be. Don’t get me wrong, raising teenagers and bigger kids is exhausting too. However, I get to see all that hard work of teaching and showing them the way as littles is paying off.

My conclusion…I am raising inclusive, kind and self thinking humans. My goal to raise inclusive, kind and self thinking humans. I love that they are not afraid to be who they are. I love that they feel others hurts and are empathetic and kind. I love that they talk to me. I just could not be more proud of any of them.

My youngest (#3) is 8 now. 8?!!? How did that happen? I think because she is the baby I will always and forever see her as our baby. We definitely baby her a lot. Remember up there where I said they exceeded my expectations….she has done this the most. I never realized just how much I do things for her. She had her first birthday party with friends and she has a really great group of friends.

She is going to be in 3rd grade and is super excited about it. She is definitely my handful. She is so social and way more rebellious than her sisters. But I like it. She always quickly has remorse when she is super sassy. She still says the funniest things. Two days after my surgery I was begging to NOT laugh. Her goal to make me laugh. She did make me laugh too. She is kinda dying down with the shopkins, but every time I think she is done with it there is a resurgence. She also loves roadblocks (spelling??), barbies and hanging out with her Daddy. She isn’t sure what she wants to be when she grows up.



Then there is my # 2 and she has been by far my biggest savior during this whole recovery. She has essentially taken over the kitchen and feeding this crew. Yesterday she made a comment about how she realized how much food we eat. She has pretty much made dinner and sometimes lunch every day. She is also cleaning the kitchen (sharing that with big sis) and going to grocery with myself or my guy. I am grateful for the time we have gotten to spend together during this time. She has just such a neat personality and we are kindred spirits when it comes to be creative. We have literally spent hours talking about planners, pens and stickers. Yesterday even she painted my toenails for me. She is definitely all about taking care of her momma right now.

She is gonna be in 8th grade (boo…last year before high school). She has an amazing group of friends she has had for a long time. She loves writing, music and is not afraid of anything despite a weird internal afraid of everything. I hope that makes sense. She is a trendsetter. I am not joking….she knows what will be cool before it is. I am not sure about her and college. She says now she doesn’t want to go. But I truthfully could see her blazing her own path that lets her dictate what her day looks like…be her own boss ya know. I could see her cooking, djing, writing or something like that. Maybe even a hairdresser. She loves photography just like me and the middle pic was me taking a pic of her taking a pic. I loved the way it looked.




My # 1 kiddo has had a DAMN big year. She started high school. She started her first job. She is gonna be 16 in three weeks. She got her permit, has her first car waiting on her in our driveway when she gets licensed in November. She also played softball and is playing golf (we think). She is the child that most definitely has many similar interests as I have. We both enjoy being active and eat very similarly. She is way too smart; it amazes me because I feel like there isn’t anything she cannot do. She is so aware of the world and its injustices and definitely and empath like myself.

She is going to an early college and will be a sophomore. This year and next year she will be taking quite a few of her college courses. She is extremely interested in science. She wants to go to small college. Currently, Rose-Hulman is her first pick with Butler being second. She intends on being a doctor. Not sure where she is headed for graduate school so we will see. She is the momma when I cannot be and sometimes when I can (she is a definite leader 🙂 ). She steps up to babysit a lot and be in charge when we need her to be.



Can ya’ll see why I am so proud? These girls are my reason why for ever single thing! I want to raise good girls that are world changers. I hope they make the world a better place to be in. I know they make my world a better place to be in.

And finally my guy. He has been so amazing. He had to yet again deal with the TMI aspect of being a woman and did it all without any complaints. He has taken care of the girls, myself and himself without any complaints. He has slept in the living room since my surgery so as to not bump into me. This is all while dealing with a chronic disease. The two weeks leading up to my surgery he was out of town for training. We haven’t had as much time to hang out and “date” like we like to because of the surgery. But we will get there. We know for us that is important part to keeping our marriage fresh. However, sometimes you need things like this to remind you why and how much you love one another. I spent the last three years making him a priority and put this surgery off because of his TN and fears of flares. So to have a slight role reversal was good.




Finally Love Wins. This isn’t much of a struggle and is more of a relief to have done. But damn I love these people of mine.

Family is everything – MR



This is why I write.

Sometimes you have moments so moving and intense that the thought of not sharing them seems impossible. It feels almost like you are not acknowledging their existence. That is my life lately.

Most of the intense moments aren’t mine to share. I am a witness to them. They are big. Some are scary. Most are heartfelt and some of the hardest and most defining moments in others lives. But all the same not my own to share.

But those moments are why I write to show the world. It isn’t that I think the world cares about my world. It is to capture what I feel in a single solitary moment as a human being willing to share her story.



I walked into my house with my mind going its usual 500mph of what I have left to accomplish for the evening. I was happy and feeling light. It was show week which means somehow we made it through and the show is what it is. A load lifted off my shoulders and wishes to the world that it will turn out good.

I open the door to my kitchen and I walk in looking down and my house is quiet which causes a small alarm, so I give a quick glance up and my guy is standing up looking out the back window. I see his back and a profile of his face and if I could just bottle the feeling I had in that moment I would.

My heart wanted to burst. The last three months of each of us coming and going and quick kisses in the hall or before one of us falls asleep for the night. The boring, routine married life I dreamed of as a child. The mundane of my happiness in my heart swells my heart. I am grateful for him, for that moment because this is my life. I have dreamed of this life my whole life.

So many times we think love looks like the movies and the breathless meetings and protests of undying love that we would die for. I never wanted or needed that. I needed that stoic, strong man who showed up. The one who loves unconditionally, who stands watch over the world and me. Someone to protect me and my world and in that moment that is what I saw.

And go ahead and call me one of those ugh bloggers who blogs about her spouse and marriage. And you would be right, but it wouldn’t be for show because what I plan to tell you is that the last few months we have had to be a whole lot more parent/teacher/adult than a wife and her guy. Sometimes I even fall asleep for multiple days in a row without even an utterance of a good night.

No good night kiss? No grand gesture at bedtime of I am grateful I end each day with you. I imagine that is what good wives do. But if I am honest, some days I climb into bed and I hope he doesn’t even talk cause I am beat. I give a lot to everyone else and most days there is barely any left for me. So yea I wake up at 3AM and I wonder if he knows I still get warm fuzzies when I walk into a room and see him. I usually snuggle close and rub his almost bald head and I thank him for our life silently while he snores away. He is clueless that these thanks are given. But I love him and I love our boring, routine married life that I dreamed of.

That is why I write because of that feeling. That guy. That moment. That is the story that needs told.

To all the boring, routine marriages that still have those moments. Hang onto them. 


Thank you to the boy who broke my heart

In the fall of my junior year, I remember waking up one morning and my step mom handing me a trash bag and telling me I had been left a delightful gift I would get to clean up in my front yard. I walked out to a yard full of fluffy, drippy, wet toilet paper. I had been toilet papered which back in the day meant that you had an admirer. I smiled the whole time I cleaned up that toilet paper knowing there was someone on the other end of that prank that thought of me.

I made my way back in and the phone rang and I remember running to it hoping it was my friend, so I could tell her my good news. As I picked up the receiver the person on the other end proclaimed to be from our local radio station and told me I won a contest for the hottest legs in Indiana. I literally felt like I had won the lottery with all of this attention suddenly.

img_0797I was a gangling 16 year old junior who was obsessed with softball. I had barely dated and if I did it was off and on. A date once with a super cute guy who ended up drooling the whole night because of a new retainer. Or there was the boy who talked up an amazing date he was gonna take me on that ended up bringing to his church to convert me to a new religion. And yes let’s not forget the guy who asked me to prom when I was a sophomore, only to find out no junior in his actual class would go with him. So, I pushed the caller for info on who they were because I knew at this point I didn’t win a contest and it was likely the toilet paper bandit. I asked, “Where you the one who toilet papered my house?” The phone slammed down.

I went back to my room and sat on my bed looking out of the window. I felt happy with this attention and suddenly after I had been laying there awhile I hear this loud truck rev by outside my window cruising down my cul-de-sac. I peek out and I see an red, old, almost rusted out Ford truck. I see him driving it, the him who two years later would be a part of one of my biggest lessons on love…loving yourself. But I knew who it was and that truck ended up being the center of just about every memory I had for the next two years.

The other day as I was driving through town I spotted what appeared to be the exact same truck parked at an angle in front of a building. The same way that boy always parked his truck, so no one would scratch it (as if you would actually notice). He loved that truck…he loved it almost as much as he loved me. I went on my first real date in that truck, had my first real kiss in that truck. I remember hopping into that truck thousands of times and sliding all the way over and holding on tight like our tiny world could easily collapse around us and eventually it did.

The first fight and the many that followed were in that truck where we fought about dumb things like did I stare at another boy too long and or should he join the military and what that meant for us. There was the one time he packed up a blanket and a picnic basket and took me to field to have a picnic under the stars, or the time he pulled his truck into his garage and turned the old static radio up with the loudest country music I had ever heard and we danced for hours. Our date to the drive in theater to watch the Lion King while we laid in the bed of the of truck and listened to the drag cars at IRP in Speedway. Something that only those from Speedway would understand. The loud screeching tires set against the backdrop of the stuck in the 50’s drive in. We dreamed that night of our future and made plans. The clueless plans of two teenagers in love with the idea of love and not at all realizing the mistakes they were making.

I remember the feeling of having one person being your whole world, so much I didn’t really see that I needed my own dreams. I had not one dream except for him. My dream was to always be that girl sliding in next to him in that rusty old truck. He couldn’t see me as anything more and neither could I.

Reality struck as adulthood came bearing down on us. His path visibly pulling from my own, but I foolishly followed that path because that is what young in love teenagers do. I liked hearing that old red truck rev up outside my bedroom window and knowing he was out there waiting on me or the doughnuts we would do in my cul-de-sac when there were snow covered roads. The good times were good, but the bad times were plentiful.

We loved hard, but we fought even harder in what I can only describe as my inner true self fighting to come out and be who I was really meant to be. Something inside of me screaming to go another direction. I figured out I was 18 and somehow managed to let two years of my life get taken over by a boy who had a dream that didn’t really include me.

1-2mThe actual moment we both fought was one we kept putting off, the reality that our dreams took us two very different places and what eventually happened was an ugly goodbye and a breakup I never thought I would recover from. But I did and that broken heart taught me so much about love and life and myself. What I did and didn’t want from a partner in life and truthfully it prepared me for my one true love. A love grounded on more than teenage whimsy in an old red and rusty Ford truck.

Thankfully, that love is one 19 years in the making with more whimsy, romance and love of one another and self than anything I could have ever imagined backed then. I suppose that is why we have teenage relationships and first loves. To learn who we are and who we are meant to be. Sure middle of the night puke sessions with your kids, grief and loss, paying bills, brain surgery and just living life isn’t all that romantic. But inside all of that mundane I became who I was meant to be and so did my guy. Ultimately, that heartbreak lead me to someone who loves me in spite of and because of who I truly am and in my experience in this life that is so rare and hard to find.

Now my love doesn’t drive a rusty old beat up truck and come screeching outside my bedroom window.  But he climbs into bed with me every night and gets up every morning ready to face the day with me again. We make that choice every single day. Sometimes life is unbearably hard and cruel, but somehow we manage it trials together. Even better we laugh along the way. So thank you to my first love for letting me go, so I could experience true love. First the true love of myself and then loving myself enough to love someone else. In fact, that love is enough for four other someone elses and for that I am grateful.

Love wins, you just have to let it. Even the love of the self. <3, MR 

Trigeminal Neuralgia – 3 years later 

Sometimes I get asked about the personal stories I share on my blog and there are a couple of reasons I do this. The first is I am a writer. I was born a writer and will always be a writer. Writing is woven into my heart and soul like my children are. An essence of my being that exists inside, outside and because of me. 

But when I share personal stories about my marriage it is because I have a story to tell. One that probably doesn’t look all that different than someone else’s, but maybe they haven’t uttered it. Or maybe they don’t even know if that is their story until they read mine. But more than anything I share it for me. I grew up thinking love looked a certain way and I tried so hard to push and shove and mold it into that vision and it never worked. I want my baby girls to know what true love looks like not the packaged version the media sells. 

Three years ago I found out my husband had not been telling me the whole truth. I sat in an emergency room with him as he hadn’t eaten for three days, barely had spoke and begged for the pain to end. He had been battling what I believed to be TMJ for four or so years and had in the previous week been to see a neurologist who placed him on loads of meds. But out of no relief and desperation I put him in a car and drove him to an emergency room in one of the worst snow storms our area had seen. 

I had to do all of the talking for him because he couldn’t speak. They immediately hooked him up to an IV drip of pain meds and I explained his years of treatment for TMJ. They all looked baffled and remarked never had they seen TMJ cause this amount of pain. After a few hours and no relief he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and whispered trigeminal Neuralgia and uttered I am sorry. He also gave into all the meds being pumped into his body and fell asleep, but not with out the wincing pains cause every few minutes he would move and scrunch up. The look of which still tears at my heart and informs me it is a bad TN day. Eventually the doctors came in after talking with his new neurologist and gave me the diagnosis.

Trigeminal Neuralgia and I began to hear what I have heard 100 times over, “There isn’t much we can do for that.” We were sent home with meds that didn’t work and the sad pity eyes that we have grown accustomed to. For the next 8 hours I pondered why he hadn’t told me, but a Dr. Google search told me. My guy has always tried to make life easier for me. He is my number one protector and he tried to protect me from this. He couldn’t. 

A restless night of no sleep as I watched the man I love and made a life with look weak, scared and in such pain that he couldn’t function in his life. The kind of pain that makes you retreat into your own mind to cope. The moment that was likely most devastating for me was what I woke up to when I accidentally fell asleep. What I can and will say is I immediately called his neurologist on his emergency line and demanded he be admitted into the hospital and an hour later he was admitted. 

He spent three days there that ended with, “He is going to have to find a way to live with this pain.” This is after three days of a morphine drip he controlled, and 6 different types of meds to control his TN and his pain. He was eating hospital protein shakes and had lost 15 pounds. When the doctor made that statement I didn’t even wait for him to leave. I excused myself and I called our family physician and demanded they get us into a more specialized neurologist immediately. I took him home and a week and a half later we were in that appointment which the doctor demanded a phone to call a specialist in Indy right in front of us  and then two days later we were in Indianapolis with one of the top TN doctors. And a week later his microvascular decompression surgery. 

My guy has atypical trigeminal neuralgia which means nothing works 100% usually. Things can make it manageable, but those things are different for every patient and sometimes they change once you figure them out.  He went into surgically induced remission for about 4 months after the surgery. He remained off his meds for about 6 months. He typically has seasonal remission during warmer months, but did have some flare ups during this spring and summer. He takes three meds daily for it and every winter his pain gets increasingly worse. 

This life isn’t always easy, but it is our life and dare I say our normal now. The surgery, the side effects and the trauma have fundamentally changed who he is. That takes a constant readjustment for my heart and brain. That is hard, but my God do I love this man. He is the strongest most steady thing I have ever had in my life and I love this life we have made. I know God had a plan for us and this. I got to see what I needed from a human in my life because of this and I also fell in love and got to take care of him in a way I never thought I had the ability to do. I thought I was strong before, but I know my heart has super human strength with the capability to love beyond self. 

So am I saying I am glad for TN…no not really…but I am grateful for my path and my love. 

17 Years-I promise forever.

As we stand together
I promise forever
‘Til the day that I die
You are the love of my life

Wedding Song – Sammy Kershaw


may 22, 1999


may 22, 2016

Oh I suppose this may be another post waxing poetic about my marriage, but it isn’t some lame attempt at my social media life looking more exciting than the real deal. In fact, exciting and all of it’s connotations are exactly what makes my marriage worth having and where this post was generated from.

While on vacation I was perusing pinterest and I came across a pin about a man who had been married for 17 years and had written an extremely popular post about how to maintain a marriage for that long. I was struck very quickly with imposter syndrome. How in the world can a 17 year long marriage shed any sort of light on the keys to a successful marriage. Then I remembered it wasn’t even two months ago I celebrated my 17th.

Thus began a three week journey filled photo albums, love letters to precious to share, cards for grief, loving and friendships. Pictures of times long forgotten and I realized something. I do have something to say about marriage. I am not really the advice giving type when it comes to life choices like marriage and children. What works for me may not work for others. But to so easily tisk at my own marriage that has literally been through a lifetime of love, hate, pure romance, heartache is doing it an injustice.

I began to wonder what is it that makes me love this man so especially because if you know us we are opposites. He is a naysayer and I am always a yes sayer. I trust first and ask questions later. He never trusts and rarely asks questions. I see every road block as a chance to start again to conquer a hill. He looks at it as a sucky roadblock and it makes life suck and he is stuck.

And maybe that is what makes us work because when one feels a certain way the other feels the opposite therefore providing an equal balance that keeps us in harmony. But I have known many a couple who were virtually the same person and it just works for them. Therefore, all I can truly speak to is what makes it work for me.

When I met my guy I was about a year and half out of an engagement. Yes I was engaged at an early age. My heart was broken into a million little pieces and I was desperately trying to figure out who I was in this world and I was 20. My guy patiently waited for me to figure it out. He didn’t push other than to push me to be the best version of myself I could be.

He didn’t try and change me or ask me to be someone different and I will be honest in the almost 20 years we have been together I have been a lot of different people. I am a changer. I can’t stand to grow stagnate and bored. I long to feel inspired by the world and my surroundings and try and offer something better than what was there before I came. It is just my personality.

I didn’t realize this until recently when I thought about every serious job I have ever had and how much I loved each and every single one them. I thought with each one that I could grow old and retire here. When I didn’t feel that way anymore or at all…I left. To some that could be too flighty or too living by the seat of your pants. Especially, to someone like my guy who is so grounded sometimes I have bust cement around him. But never once ever did he say, “no, stop wait…maybe that isn’t a good idea.”

And truthfully that road goes both ways. I don’t necessarily always like the decisions he makes, but I always try and hear him out and support and love because that is our foundation. It is love. It is trust. It is being the best us together and trusting one another that that is our goal always.

And if this sounds a little too sappy it is. I acknowledge that. I also acknowledge it hasn’t always been as easy as it seems. We have grown up together in so many ways. I could give you all the stats of houses, children, deaths, births and vacations. But they all lead down the same exact path that both of us committed to one another and that commitment stands above all else.  It was a commitment first to God, a commitment to our selves and then a commitment to our marriage.

Never was there a bumpier patch as there was when he had his MVD or even TN struck because the reality is my guy and my marriage changed completely at that moment. It wasn’t the kind of bumpy where there is fighting and slamming doors or even lonely isolation. It was the kind of bumpy where we both were completely different people once things were better. We both shared very different experiences of what we had gone through. We both no longer recognized the person in front of us.

That is probably a newer realization. The advantage and comfort that I had coming out of that is my commitment has never waned. But it is life’s little intricacies that make him my one. The way he always makes me smile. The way he looks at me. He may not smile for the world, but he always smiles for me. The way he parents. The way he is dedicated to us and our family. The way he heads our family. The little ways he takes care of me every day. How he loves to run in the hot oppressive heat and I love to run in the cool crisp air. The way he grabs my hand when he is driving always. The list could virtually go on and on.

Times do get hard. We do get mad at one another and the secret is no secret. I remember the commitment every single day that I made to loving this man.  The commitment to our memories, our children, our public promise and private declaration to one another. That means more to me than anything.

My reward for this comes every single day even on the hard days. There is always a hand to hold, love to be had, someone to wipe the tears, some one to giggle with even when I do not necessarily agree with his political views or appreciate his “you kids get off my lawn mentality”. It just works. 7000 days strong and it works. Love always wins.

And in case you don’t believe we have been together all that time I have proof. We have literally grown together and I can honestly say we only get better looking and better together.


Engaged…My guy and I

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Traveling…Las Vegas

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Yes this pretty much happened on a regular basis


We were literal babies.


Love winning. 5-22-99

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When our sense of humor collides watch out!



Notice the look on my face. No one else gives me that look. It is a mixture of love, comfort and home. So there is the secret. Find the one who makes your face and body feel like that and you have found your one. That is also the warm fuzzy that is love winning.

Same Old Love Song (Grateful)

Entry # 2 

I don’t get many things right. But I got him right. I didn’t believe in fate, God, a higher being and then my life worked out the way it was supposed to. That didn’t happen until he came into my life.

There are two stories I tell of how we met. The one people expect to hear and the one few truly know. Both a chance meeting and fate intervening. One way more romantic and unbelievable than the other. That one is true though. A story so precious it is rarely uttered because who would believe it anyway?

All I can say is life, God, the world, the universe it figures out what you need and it sends it your way. If you are ready for it, it will blow up your world. If you aren’t it walks on by maybe until the time is right or maybe not again. I am not sure. All I know is that is what I believe.

Every single MOMENT I have had in the last 19 years I have had the same hand to hold. The same voice to sooth. The same arms around me. The same smile and sense of humor. The same love. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t even really want it. But it came and for that I am grateful. It made me believe in something better. It made me want to be better.

I am grateful for his life. I am grateful for each and every breath we take together. I am grateful that we care enough to fight for each other even if sometimes it is against each other. I am grateful for our life. Our beautiful mundane life of mowing grass, working to pay bills, hurried dinners and the quiet moments where it is just us.

He is a the man I love. He is the man I chose as a father to my precious babies. He is the man I chose for forever and for that I am grateful. Forever and always….LOVE WILL WIN.








And the song that will forever and always remain my marriage anthem to my guy. Ben Fold’s sing “Luckiest” because I am the Luckiest.

I don’t want to be your inspiration.

Photo (1)The last few months I have heard the phrase, “You are such an inspiration” so much and I naturally do not take compliments very well, but this one has never set well with me. Once I hear it I often go into my own head recounting all the things I have done that day to prove I am anything but an inspiration.

It is no secret the year of 2015 was the year of Mommy Rhetoric. I figured my shit out. I got myself together. I made myself a priority. But the more you think you have it all together and figured out the more I realized I have nothing figured out and just when I think I do have it all figured out the more the universe says, “Oh hell no.”

The year 2014 was hands down the worst year of all of my life. My life crumbled. I dealt withIMG_4854 the worst life could throw me. I pretended to be okay, but all the while I was a pile of mush and mess of emotions that I had no idea how to deal with. I told myself and others I was okay, while inside I traveled further and further away from who I really was.

The reality is that in 2015 I was forced to deal with that separation from myself and others. I lived through a crisis and came out on the other side. What came out on the other side was a crumbled version of my family and a crumbled version of myself. I felt like I was in a forest and fighting to find my way out. I said it before and I will say it again. My brain, my body and my heart gained an irrecoverable wrinkle that forever changed me and them. It then became my job to put myself back together so that I could help put them back together. And that process…it ain’t easy.

I struggled forgiving others in my life who couldn’t save me from that forest especially the ones who I felt like didn’t even try. I still struggle that they can’t forgive me for being lost in the forest. I saw true nature of others image1and they saw my own true nature.  I stared at my faith in the eye and had it more defined for me than it had ever been and if I am honest all of that was incredibly ugly, and angry.

I had to find a way to forgive a lot. But most importantly I had to find a way to forgive myself. And being honest I am not even sure I am there yet. This type of forgiveness takes time, grace and whole lot of love. And the process really doesn’t feel all that inspiring. So when I hear, “you are inspiring” I feel like a fraud.

My weight loss is so much more than an inspirational story or a container system or work out program. It is my therapy. It is my method of coping and dealing with life handing you lemons and choosing to use that lemon for my water instead of making a pie. It is my way to get into my own head and figure my shit out. Mile by mile. Workout by workout. Doughnut by doughnut (okay, I am kidding! maybe?).

I know I don’t normally cuss on my blog anymore, but if I am here and I am truthful and I am Mommy Rhetoric in all her glory. The only word that adequately describes what the last few years have been like for me it is necessity. It is therapeutic and it is my truth. Working through this is a process that I feel like could take me a lifetime. Someday it feels like I have made progress and other days it feels like I am right back to where I started.


It is true my life is exponentially better. But never mistake that Photo (2)for a perfect and inspiring life. We still deal daily with how our lives have changed and I am really only beginning to see some parts of the ramifications of this messy life. But on the hard days I hit the road or a sweat a little longer. Or I have a doughnut.

But I also still battle the beast that is emotional eating. I get bothered sometimes that people think I am always so good because I think they would be disappointed in me or would be shocked to see just how uninspirational I truly am. But that is one thing I hope I have done in this journey and that is sharing my truth that can one day offer up a day of doughnuts, Dr. Peppers and french fries and the next show a disciplined athlete and eater.

I don’t have those Dr. Pepper days as much that is true, but they still exist and no that doesn’t make me a cheater or a bad person for eating “bad” food. It me dealing with reality. Some days are harder than others. I never look at a day as the sun comes up and think today will be a bad day or today will be a good day. I honestly tackle the world minute by minute.

I hit each day and I tackle it the best I can. Some days I kill it. Other days I fail miserably, but the most important part of all of this is….. I hit each day and I tackle it the best I can. That is a decision I make and that is the one and only inspirational part of my story. Not the inches lost, not what a square box says, not what I put in my mouth and certainly not how my clothes fit. It is deciding every single day that I am worthy of this life and that I need to tackle every day and what it brings. Even the hard stuff.

So when you are searching for inspiration please don’t find it in people. Find it in yourself. We are all beautiful in our own ways and we find a way to not only see those ways, but honor them by being who you are unashamedly and without hesitation. The world wants to see your true authentic self and that is where inspiration lies. That is what I hope makes me inspirational to all of you.

I encourage each of you take a minute and look on your phone or a device and find a picture where you are truly smiling. Not a fake selfie taken 30 times for the right angle or light. Just a picture that is snapped where you see pure and utter happiness and tell yourself this life throws us things…crappy, crappy things, but you chose to smile. That is where love lies. Love always wins. 


A family stronger than ever. A woman being comfortable in her own skin and who she is. A man recovering from an incurable neurological disorder and major life disruption. A man and woman trying to raise daughters the best way they know how. Two teenage girls and all that entails and one baby girl who has so much yet to conquer. All those smiles. Those personalities. That is LOVE WINNING.

Signing out as Mommy Rhetoric and still searching for Less of Me (let me know if you find it)

Life interrupted.


I climbed into a booth for my usual Saturday date night with my guy. We have been doing this almost a half a year at this point. On Saturday night the girls scatter around and we sneak off for a quick dinner out in our dinky town. The chill outside was so cold and temps dropping.

He ordered a beer and I ordered my unsweetened ice tea. They bring the chips and salsa. I look up and his face is motionless. His eyes afraid. I whisper, “What’s the matter?” I get nothing, not even an eye blink.

I get in a bit more of a panic and say, “Are you okay?” But I knew. My heart knew. He held still each of his muscles contracted so as to avoid any sudden movement. He points his finger to his jaw. I look down.

I waited so he didn’t have me staring at him. It felt like awhile and looked back up and said sadly, “Are you okay?” He didn’t say much. Then he said, “That hurt.” I asked if it was eating? He shook his head unsure.

We sat silent for awhile. Both of us knowing what the other was thinking. Is this happening again?  Is eating going to trigger his pain again? I cannot stand silence, so I asked, “Has this been happening?” He said, “Not really.” As he finished that he trailed off….Motionless face. Stiff muscles. Again not even three minutes later. We sat there and he had a few more.

Today continued with some more. I am not sure if it is the cold or the barometric pressure. Both can easily be a trigger. I wonder if it is the stress. We have had some added stress at home with various things. All are triggers. But then it could just be TN because TN works like that. No rhyme, no reason….LIFE interrupted. Time will reveal I guess.

Summer Hiatus: Day # 31


“When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth……

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.”

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”
― Kahlil Gibran, Le Prophète

To love some one so completely that you feel it. I mean truly feel it in your insides. That is love. 

Summer Hiatus: Day # 26

summerhiatus26This guy is my heart! I could give you 100,000 reasons why he is the love of my life, but we don’t have time for that nor do you want to read it all. But one of the top on that list is the father that he is. The idea of fatherhood never ever appealed to him when we were dating and even first married. Then something happened and it did. It became clear from the moment he knew he would be a father that it would be one of his amazing contributions in the world. We so nicely play off of one another. I push our girls to their edges and limits and he keeps us all grounded. He is our home. The reality in a dreamers world and it works. Happy Father’s Day to the most amazing father I know. Your constant care, dedication and sacrifice for family is awe inspiring.

“To be the father of growing daughters is to understand something of what Yeats evokes with his imperishable phrase ‘terrible beauty.’ Nothing can make one so happily exhilarated or so frightened: it’s a solid lesson in the limitations of self to realize that your heart is running around inside someone else’s body. It also makes me quite astonishingly calm at the thought of death: I know whom I would die to protect and I also understand that nobody but a lugubrious serf can possibly wish for a father who never goes away.”
― Christopher Hitchens, Hitch-22: A Memoir